


Adiposer

by myaso



Series: meat's body mod drabbles [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Body Image, Body Modification, Drabble, Inflation, Other, Pre-War, Rapid weight gain, Science Experiments, Weight Gain, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 19:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myaso/pseuds/myaso
Summary: Shockwave's desire to be different takes on a big new twist.





	Adiposer

There was always something bigger and better to be had; you just had to be willing to fight for it. Shockwave was not one who was willing to bow down and accept the status quo, regardless of whether that referred to politics, or something...well, was it really something 'simpler'?

If you asked him, gun to his head, how many Cybertronians that he estimated suffered from body dysmorphia, his answer would likely be astronomical but not far off from the truth. He wished that he could say he wasn't one of them, unconcerned of his appearance- or, at least, concerned only up to a 'normal' and healthy point. No, Shockwave coped with his own demons by putting a tremendous amount of effort into standing out, becoming a beacon among his peers. A beacon of what- trouble, perhaps?- he wasn't sure, but a beacon nonetheless.

"Sir..."

Shockwave looked up from his datapad. He had become lost in thought while waiting in the procedure room, though not from boredom.

"Ah, sorry- I was going back over your website..."

"Oh! That's alright, Senator, sir," The attending nurse-bot fidgeted behind his clipboard. He seemed intimidated by such a high profile face in the clinic. "I was going to ask, have you already signed your consent forms?"

"I don't think that I have, no. Is that the last step before the procedure?"

The nurse nodded, then handed the clipboard to Shockwave. With one neon hand, he took it, and began to skim his finger down the columns of medical babble as he read.

_-may cause-_

_-not proven to cause, however-_

_-not responsible for any ill effects...wave your right to suit-_

He grinned, mostly to himself.

"It could be a little more consumer friendly, but," Shockwave took the stylus from the top of the clipboard, and signed his name and initials at the bottom of the scrolling digital screen; he passed it back to the nurse. "It all looks agreeable."

"If you don't have any further questions f-for me, Sir, I'll just need one more initial on this-"

The air between them was filled with static.

"Oh, just one thing- will you be providing the procedure?"

Shockwave pre signed the form, already confident no matter how the nurse answered him.

"It's performed by one of our skilled doctors, ah! There, here he is now..."

The doctor- a short, squat helicopter with fading paint- gave Shockwave an ogling look as they grew closer. Shockwave's grin didn't leave his face once, and he stuck out an eager hand to shake the doctor's own. They looked reputable, for all of their wear and tear...or, at least, Shockwave didn't remember their face from any of the malpractice suit cases he had obsessively read while planning this at home. The doctor dismissed the nurse to the back of the room, with a short, sharp wave of his hand; Shockwave's spark raced just a little bit faster to see that the nurse didn't actually  _leave_ , just start setting things up to take observations. He had only skimmed the consent form, but some of the things that had stood out weren't pretty- but he was too far to back out now, right?

Clear, snaking tubes were brought out of a compartment on the wall, next to Shockwave's seat. The doctor tapped at Shockwave's arm, as if to find a good bit of energon tubing within, before stopping.

"Once we begin this procedure, we cannot guarantee that the effects are temporary. Do you understand, and wish to proceed with that knowledge?"

It was a- in lack of a better word-  _robotic_ response, like they had said it a million times before. The doctor still made earnest eye contact with Shockwave as he asked it- making a face akin to asking what he was even doing in a place like that. Shockwave nodded, and that seemed to be enough.

The needle plunging into his arm didn't hurt nearly as bad as he had thought it would, but he still felt a twinge as he turned his head to look at it. It wasn't yet connected to anything, just to the tubes that came out of the wall. They weren't going to just pump him full of air, were they!? No, nearly as soon as the ludicrous thought had crossed his mind, it was dispelled, as the doctor popped the tubes out of their socket, and into a machine beside Shockwave's chair. He was becoming increasingly hyperaware of just how wide the chair was, and deep, too- he had thought that it must have been a couch like design, at first, but his spark lurched at the thought of why  _else_ it might be so massive.

He had signed up for a deluxe package, so to speak, but...Primus, was he really ready for this?

"Take these numbers down, nurse-"

Shockwave jumped in his chair. Offlined optics blinked back open in shock, as the cool, thick formula was pumped rapidly into his arm. The doctor called off incomprehensible readings to the nurse, and he took them all down dutifully onto his clipboard. The concentrate was more like a sludge than the IV fluid that Shockwave had been expecting, but it- oh,  _wow_ , it felt  ** _good_**. Shockwave leaned back in his chair, trying to ignore the other two mechs in the room as his entire body began to heat despite the icy chill flowing into his system. He had been told that it would make him tired, but...oh, if he could just manage not to have his panels pop open right in front of these kind medics, he would cherish that deeply. The doctor ran a small, stiff hand over Shockwave's forehead, and Shockwave let out a quiet whimper; his chest felt heavy, getting heavier, getting...no, it couldn't be that fast...

"Just relax. Our nurse here can- anything goes wrong- call me- good luck."

With a pat to Shockwave's chest, the doctor departed, and he attempted to take what advice of theirs that he could make out through the brain fog. Images of himself began to swirl through his mind, as the whirring of the pumping machine beside him filled up his sensible thoughts. He wondered how he would look, when it was all done. Would he have a big, swollen belly, needing to go home and process it all over the next few days? Would he just plump out on the spot? Was the massive size of the chair even necessary, or was it all just for show?

A more urgent feeling in his body broke him back into the world of the conscious. He still felt sluggish, but as he looked at his arm once more, an adrenaline rush shot through his system. His arm had started to visibly plump up from the concentrate, but it wasn't just his arm: his stomach was beginning to grow a slight curve, and his legs were growing thicker, as well. His other arm was just as plump, and he swore he could actually watch it swell out further as he stared, beginning to squeeze slightly against his metal plating. Oddly, though, his plating seemed to be moving with- no-  _growing with_ the rest of his plumping self. It was as if the very makeup of his frame was rapidly changing.

Rapidly, indeed.

Aching, he looked down at his hips, and was actually able to watch his stomach bulge out noticeably, the equivalent of months of work in just mere seconds. Minutes? Hours? Primus, he didn't know, but he didn't care. The real star of the show had stolen his spark, and he could only bite his lips (with those plumping up, too) as he watched his now pear-shaped hips expand outwards. He was nowhere near filling the chair, but he was sure, somehow, that he would be overflowing it by the time that they were over. Shockwave moved his free arm to rest on his swelling belly, and he groaned as he felt both shift together. It was an undulating, warm feeling that he'd only felt in orgasm, except it was just...everywhere. His face felt thicker even beside his lips, his cheeks covered with just enough pudge to be noted as he sharply inhaled. He bit his lips harder.

He was struggling to keep his panels closed, ironically because he was thinking of just when his stomach would grow so large that he could no longer reach his genitalia. Would he need help for that, from now on? Could another mech even get to it, either? He didn't have time to dwell on the 'what if's, though, as his belly bulged out even further, just enough to cover some of his crotch. His free hand rubbed at the swelling stomach, focusing on it more, and sure enough, it swelled out even further.

He moaned. He thought of himself barely waddling out of the clinic, and his legs swelled up fatter; he thought of his pudgy arms straining against the door, all of the strength sapped out of him by tons of fat, and his arms grew so thick and heavy that he could barely spread his fingers. Time had to be passing faster, now, as his thoughts grew frantic and he felt the concentrate speed up. He had read when the cut off time was, but- it was so hard to think, especially with so much warm, soft fat lulling him to the edge of sleep.

Finally, the machine's familiar whirring shut off, and Shockwave took desperate, panting breaths. There was a hand at his chest, then a device, and...

"Senator, how are you feeling? You've hit the cut off..."

He onlined his optics, but nearly passed out again. The doctor was blurry from half lidded eyes, but not because he was struggling to stay awake- no, Shockwave felt fully awake with the machine switched off, and the concentrate no longer flowing through his veins. Shockwave groaned.

"Your vital signs appear normal, though we are aware that these changes can be difficult to cope with. You might notice some slight vision changes from the excess of fat on your face- this type of fat distribution is rare, but was mentioned in the consent forms. Senator, tell me, how are you feeling?"

Shockwave struggled to stick his arms out in front of him, not ready to take one pudgy limb off of his shelf of a stomach. His hands were nearly useless, swollen so fat that he could barely spread his fingers- but, like the doctor had said, abnormal fat distribution was a known issue. Shockwave fought the psychosomatic urge to belch at the unnatural fullness.

"Great," And he just couldn't manage to stifle a burp as he continued,

"When can I go again?"

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to get back into the swing of things. I don't have the energy to proof read this (cancer sucks), but a sentence or two might have been cut off accidentally- can you let me know if they were? Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> You can go to my twitter (https://twitter.com/robotpornhell) to find out how to support me!


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